


Rebirth

by Dead_Bones_Sophie



Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 07:01:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3478787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dead_Bones_Sophie/pseuds/Dead_Bones_Sophie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few months after the murder of Skulduggery, Rapture stumbles across something quite unexpected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rebirth

**Author's Note:**

> ALL ABOARD THE FEELS TRAIN 
> 
> I originally intended this to be part of a larger fic (which I may still continue writing) about the events leading up to Skulduggery's death, the thing itself, and what transpired after. I quickly wrote this to get a feel for the scene, because obviously I'm experienced at writing Rapture. I will, however, rewrite it later with one or two of the Dead Men in her place.

As Rapture lead her horse down the dirt road at a nice calming trot, something caught her attention; a worrying scent in the air, something that didn't belong. Something alive and yet dead. Flicking out her tongue, which shrank and elongated into the black tongue of a serpent, she followed this worrisome scent down a fork in the road which was, if she remembered correctly, in the general direction of a nearby river. As she got closer loud screaming became audible, coming from the bank. Her horse snorted nervously, steps slightly panicked, and after a while the sorcerer hopped down from the lean charger and tied his reins to a tree. There would be no point pushing on only to have him throw her. Whatever this thing might be, it was enough to spook a horse that boasted a reputation for having nerves of steel. Patting his muzzle reassuringly, Rapture smiled. “Don't worry old boy. I'll be careful.” 

He bobbed his head in protest, making a noise that suggested he very much doubted that, but Rapture left regardless, picking her way through the forest nimbly and using the loud screaming as a guide. Eventually she reached the edge of the trees, coming out onto the bank, and waiting for her was without a doubt the single strangest thing she had ever witnessed. 

A bare skeleton looked to have clawed its way out of the river, a ragged and torn sack discarded close by and was now scraping what Rapture could only assume was the remainder of charred flesh from its bones with a small rock. After every tentative little scrape the skeleton would cry out loudly, shudder slightly, pause and then repeat. She blinked and then arched an eyebrow, watching the oddly twisted scene unfold before her. Watching for a few moments more, more out of fascination than horror, she eventually shook her head and started to walk down the bank, slowly and with a dagger in hand. Upon reaching the skeleton, who looked to have finished with the whole flesh-scraping-business, she cocked her head to the side. “Need a hand?”

“I-...ugh. Augh. Yeuch.” The skeleton made a series of coughing noises, as if trying to clear a throat it didn't have, and then tried again. “Hm. Talking with no throat to speak of, ha ha, is going to take some getting used to.” It mused. Quite distinctly male, from what Rapture could hear, and there was something disturbingly familiar about his voice...

“But yes, I could use a hand.” He continued, and she refocused her thoughts on him. “Quite literally, as it turns out.” It was then Rapture noticed the finger bones sitting beside the skeleton, all jumbled and out of order. “I couldn't quite manage it myself. The other one...I think I've arranged it wrong, and I would most likely do the same with the other.” He wiggled the fingers on his one fully assembled hand at her and they did indeed look a little off. 

Rapture stared. 

“Hello?”

She stared some more. 

“Is everything alright?” The skeleton asked, and got a continued stare in return. “Oh. It's the whole skeleton thing, isn't it? I imagine it's quite the oddity, watching me try to put myself back together.” 

“Skulduggery...?” Rapture wondered aloud, and he cocked his head. 

“Skulduggery?” The skeleton repeated slowly. “Who exactly is causing trouble again?” 

Mind reeling, the sorcerer couldn't tear her gaze away. There was absolutely no mistaking it; Skulduggery had been murdered only a few short months ago, and now there was a skeleton with his voice kneeling before her. She had known about Tenebrae and his dabbling, she made it her _business_ to know as many things as possible (they were in the middle of a war, after all), but never had she imagined him capable of _this_. “It _is_ you, isn't it?”

“What's me?” He questioned, sounding confused. 

“Don't you-” Rapture stopped herself. Being violently murdered and then violently dragged back into the land of the living again...well, she imagined it would have been somewhat jarring to say the least. It was unsurprising that his memories were taking a little while to organize themselves. “Skulduggery Pleasant. That's your name.” She told him. 

“Oh, you're giving me a name?” He muttered, sounding vaguely curious. “That's nice. Rather ironic. But could you help me with my hand?”

Rapture hesitated and then managed to put on a friendly smile. “Of course.” She put away her dagger and crouched down, immediately going about retrieving each little finger bone and attaching them in the correct order. Once she had finished she pulled apart two of the fingers on his other hand, despite the yelps of pain from Skulduggery, and put them back together properly this time. “There. All done.” She declared, leaning back to admire her hand-y work. Handy work. Handiwork. Whatever. “How do they feel?”

Skulduggery flexed the fingers on both hands, turned his hands over and then flexed them again. “Much better, thank you.” 

“Any time.” 

For a long while they sat in silence, Rapture watching Skulduggery carefully, Skulduggery watching the river that raged so closely. “Lovely day, isn't it?” He mused eventually. 

“What do you remember?” Rapture blurted out before she could stop herself, and the skeleton turned to look at her. 

“Well, I remember waking up at the bottom of a river, dragging myself out and putting myself back together, getting rid of that painful gunk on my bones. And then _you_ showed up, offered to give me a hand, and I told you-”

“Before that.” She elaborated hurriedly, cutting him off. “Before waking up on the riverbed.”

“Oh.” 

Rapture waited patiently for an answer, despite the time it took him. She could almost visibly see his thoughts racing as he tried to remember. 

“I don't-...I'm not sure.” He turned away once again. “I don't know who I was or if I even used to _be_ anyone before this.” A light shrug, his shoulder blades going up. “Perhaps I've always been a skeleton. Who knows.”

Rapture frowned at him, long and hard, and then her expression softened. “Oh Skulduggery.” She leaned over and wrapped her long slender arms around his bony frame. “What have they done to you, my friend?” 

“What have who done to me?” Skulduggery questioned, allowing the hug to happen but not making any move to return it. 

Shrugging, Rapture released him from her embrace. “The fates, I suppose.” She lied. Leaning back she studied him with her twinkling emerald eyes and smiled once again; it was conflicted, a mixture of relief and sadness. Relief that her friend wasn't quite as dead as everyone believed and sadness at the tortures he had experienced, was yet to experience. When he remembered...

“Well.” She began, pushing away the unsavoury thought. “We can't have you sitting there stark naked, can we? I'll get you some clothes; got a spare outfit that you can borrow back with my horse. Living, I seriously doubt it would have fit, but now...” Grinning, she leaped to her feet. “I'll be back before you know it.”

Her words barely registering, Skulduggery watched her disappear into the trees and then turned back to stare at the river, deep in thought. There was a slight haze whenever he tried to recall anything about his life before and, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't quite shift it. Indeed Rapture returned before he knew it, lost in thought as he was, carrying a small bundle. She threw the clothes into his lap and placed a pair of boots at his feet. “Here. Put these on.” 

Wordlessly he obeyed, tugging on the shirt first, wrapping a scarf around his jaw. When it came to the lower half, however, he couldn't quite manage it. The moment he tried to stand he wobbled precariously, stumbled and almost fell. Rapture caught him before that could happen, urged him to lean on her shoulder for support. With her help he was completely dressed in no time, sporting a simple pair of trousers and a shirt, the boots, scarf and some gloves, with a hooded cloak to top it all off. Obviously nothing fit quite right, not being tailored to fit a living skeleton, but it succeeded in covering up any hints of the skeletal figure underneath. 

“There.” Rapture hummed contentedly. “You look almost presentable now.”

“And what would _you_ know of presentable, wearing such provocative clothing?” Skulduggery teased. He paused and then looked up at her. “That was quite rude, wasn't it?”

“Just a little.” She smirked. 

“I'm not sure why I said that.” He muttered absently, and then shook his head. “Sorry, what was your name again? Didn't quite catch it before.”

“Rapture Soul, at your service.” The sorcerer did a little half-bow even as Skulduggery still held onto her shoulder for support. He wobbled slightly, shifted his footing and then straightened up. 

“Rapture? Well, that's not at all ominous or-...or...” Quite suddenly he froze, staring, presumably, at nothing in particular, although with his lack of eyes it was hard to tell. “Why does that ridiculous name sound so familiar? Did we-...did we know each other? Do you know what happened to me, who I am?”

“If I knew what happened to you why would I have queried your knowledge about events before the riverbed?” Rapture asked, deliberately avoiding answering the question.

“To see how much I knew and just how much you needed to lie about.” Skulduggery said immediately, not even thinking about it. “Again, not sure how I knew that, but I'm going to go with it.” He stated with a nod. “I'm quite an intelligent person, aren't I? Hm, how delightful.”

“Yes, and also completely narcissistic.” Rapture agreed, still dodging a direct answer. 

“And you, Miss Soul, are avoiding my questions.” Skulduggery gave her, she was sure, what would have once been a pointed look. 

“I know. And with good reason.”

“What good reason would that be, then? I wake up quite literally a bag of bones and have to reassemble myself after spending god knows how many hours trying to claw my way out of a river. I don't know who I am, where I came from and how I got here, but _you_ do.”

“Skulduggery-”

“Yes, I'm dead, but I doubt I was always like this. I was probably murdered. That much is obvious.” He continued. “And if you know that I know, what reasons could you possibly have to withhold-” Pausing once again in as many minutes Skulduggery stared at the floor. “There was a castle.” He murmured, clearly remembering something. “I was in a castle. Why was I in a castle?”

“I see that your deductive skills are slowly starting to resurface. Congratulations.” Rapture said drily, ignoring his comment about the castle completely. “Now come on.” She urged, one hand coming up to grip his arm. “Let's get you back to my horse so that we can find some place comfortable to hole up for the night.”

But Skulduggery refused to budge. “No, I remember. There was a man in the castle. Sir-...Sirloin? Sir Pinhead? Sir Pine?” He tried. “Ah, wait. It was Serpine, yes?” Rapture released his arm but didn't answer, instead watched him with something approaching pity. “And there was someone else, too. Someone important.” 

“Trust me Skulduggery, you don't want to do this. Just stop, alright?” 

He ignored her and continued. “They were in danger, I remember. But who...?” Stiffening, his jaw hung wide, Skulduggery suddenly went quiet. “Oh.” He said in a feeble voice and then promptly collapsed to the floor. This time it had nothing to do with his unsure limbs. “No no no no no. That can't be right-...they can't be-..I-I couldn't have _let_ them-...it's not possible!”

Knowing that nothing she could possibly do or say would comfort the skeleton Rapture remained standing, looking down at his pathetic form with sad eyes. He had started to shake violently and hands came up to clutch at his skull. “How can they be dead?!” Skulduggery yelled. “My family, m-my...” For the second time that afternoon the skeleton started wailing, but it was a hundred thousand times worse than anything before. It was deafening, the kind of tortured, broken sound that almost seemed to physically manifest itself within the soul of anyone listening, as if the pain were their own. Rapture had a hard time keeping her emotions in check. She had never heard such a terrible sound in all her life. 

“W-where were my friends?!” He managed to choke out, letting up from his pained screaming for but a heartbeat. “Where were the other Dead Men when my family was being murdered before my eyes, when I was being tortured for weeks on end?! Ghastly! Dexter! _Anyone!_ ” Suddenly Skulduggery stopped, hands coming down to rest on the muddy ground before him, head slowly lifting to look at Rapture. “Where were _you?_ ”

“I-”

But Rapture was cut off before she could answer when Skulduggery lurched forward and knocked her to the ground. In the blink of an eye he was on her, bony gloved hands coming up to wrap around her throat. She could have easily thrown him off, his skeletal frame disturbingly light, yet she remained perfectly still. Watching him carefully. “You always know things.” He stated in a deadly whisper. “Did you know? About my family?” 

“Skulduggery, I-”

“ _Did you know?_ ” He repeated, fingers curling tighter around her throat. 

Rapture narrowed her eyes at him but still made no move to escape his grip. “No, I didn't know.”

A disbelieving scoff. “You expect me to believe that? Something so big? Usually you know every tiny little detail, on both sides of the war no less, and still side with neither – it gives you leverage, it makes you dangerous, makes you valuable.”

“I swear to you, Skulduggery, I didn't know.” She repeated. “But the other Dead Men soon noticed that something was wrong. They tried to find you, they tried so hard, but Serpine's castle was too well hidden. By the landscape, by magic.” Rapture looked into his eye sockets, those hollow, lifeless voids. “The only reason they found it in the end is because Serpine _wanted_ them to find it, to see your body mounted above the gate.” 

Skulduggery was silent for a long time as he processed this information, his grip around her neck going slack, but eventually he resumed it, squeezing hard enough to bruise. “That may be, but it still doesn't excuse your absence. You must have known where the castle was. You _must_ have.”

“Oh, I knew where the castle was.” She agreed, and Skulduggery's fingers curled even harder. “But I _didn't_ know about Serpine's plan to kidnap your family, didn't even know you had been murdered until two weeks after it happened. The Dead Men tried to find me, thinking much the same as you, that I must know something. But I was out of the country, attending to some-...ah...personal matters.”

“Personal matters?” The skeleton echoed, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. “We're in the middle of a war and you just decide to up and leave, to take a holiday because of _personal matters?_ ”

“It's not _my_ war, Skulduggery. I like to remain neutral and you know it.” Rapture told him, making no move to explain her absence as one hand came up to grab at his bony wrist. “I was abroad two months before your family was even taken. I had no idea what Serpine was planning.” Her expression became hard. “We may call ourselves friends, but don't make the mistake of assuming that I'm completely blind to your reluctance. You and your Dead Men view me as a valuable resource, something to which I'm not ignorant. I'm not an easy person to get along with – I'm violent and selfish and I've done some unspeakable things, so it stands to reason that none of you actually consider me a true friend.”

“Oh, I'll say.” Skulduggery snarled, and Rapture smiled grimly. 

“And you're forgetting; _your_ family wasn't _my_ responsibility. _You_ couldn't save them, not me, and that's on _you_.” When his grip tightened further still, fingers digging into flesh, Rapture choked out her next words. “B-but I understand. You're an angry man, Skulduggery, and you need someone to blame.” Her hand dropped to the floor and she stared up at him calmly. “Go ahead. Snap my neck if it'll make you feel better.”

In a sudden bout of anger Skulduggery's hands truly began to choke the life out of Rapture, black dots dancing before her eyes, but she didn't fight back. Very soon that same blackness started to creep across the edges of her vision and her eyes fluttered closed at the lack of oxygen reaching her brain. A split-second before she could pass out, however, the skeleton stopped. 

Watching as she gasped for breath, started gagging and choking, Skulduggery leaned back.  
“You were trying to make me angry.” He stated, words snapped. “Why?”

“You're already angry.” Rapture managed between pained breaths. “And the initial anger is the most dangerous. Your thoughts become clouded, actions irrational. Everybody knows it – it's what you're famous for.” She winced and rubbed at her throat, bitter smile painting her lips. “Oh, the anger won't go away, but as time passes you'll be able to think rationally again. Trust me, I know from experience.”

“You didn't answer my question.” 

“Well, better you snap _my_ neck when you aren't thinking clearly as opposed to the neck of someone you actually care about.” She replied coolly. 

Skulduggery stared at her, silent for a long while, but eventually managed to bark out a harsh laugh. “You of all people wouldn't do something so selfless. But you couldn't have known that I would stop. _I_ didn't even know that I would stop. What the hell are you playing at?”

“I would have let you.” Rapture corrected. “I would have let you snap my neck.” 

“What, let me kill you? Just like that? I don't think so.”

“I said I would have let you snap my neck, Skulduggery. Not kill me.” 

Skulduggery made a disgusted noise and got to his feet, however unsteady, and looked down at the sorcerer. “Am I supposed to know what you're talking about? Am I supposed to know just what the _hell_ is going on inside that messed up head of yours, to make sense of your cryptic bloody words?” He threw up his arms out of anger and frustration, a sudden gust of wind tearing past and almost uprooting a nearby tree, his magic acting more out of pure instinct than any actual control. “I'm dead! I was murdered, my family too.” The skeleton started pacing frantically, shaking his head from side to side. “My family is dead and I can't even mourn them properly. I can't even _cry!_ I can't-...I...”

Rapture sat up shakily and watched as Skulduggery fell to his knees once again, arms wrapped tightly around his rib cage, fingers disappearing between the folds in his clothing as they no doubt dug painfully into the gaping space between each bone. He choked out a dry sob, unable to cry, entire body racked with emotional turmoil. The Dead Man, now quite literally a _dead man_ was broken, his whole life shattered into a thousand different pieces, and Rapture feared there would be no putting him back together.


End file.
